GTA VI : Episodes From Los Santos
by Echo2345
Summary: Los Santos. The place where a block makes the world of a difference. Where a block can go from a hood full with ganbangers, to a group of robbers living it big. Los Santos. The city where dreams, become reality. Collab fic with Skyrims Saviour Rated M for extremely bad language and violence R
1. Chapter 1

**INTRODUCTION**

Hi there. I am Echo2345 and this is my latest fanfic. It will be a collab story with Skyrims Saviour. We will upload one chapter each e.g I upload chapter 1 he uploads chapter 2. Anyway as you can tell it will be set in Los Santos and be canon to the HD Universe, set a short time after GTA 5, two small time criminals cross each others path on their quest to hitting it big. OC submissions welcome. Here is my OC

Name :Andre 'Dre' Demont

Age:25

Hometown:Los Santos

Apparel: Black Leather Jacket with hood, Black and White Cap, Black baggy jeans and Black round toe boots.

Bio: Born and raised on the mean streets of South LS, this two bit gangbanger is no stranger to crime. Born and raised on Grove Street he lived with his mother till he was 18. His father died in a turf war when he was only 5. He then moved to Forum drive after Grove Street became part of Ballas territory. Living of money from dimebags and muggings this young mans only ambition is to make it big

Skyrims Saviours OC

Name: Marcus McKenzie

Age:23

Hometown:Liberty City

Apparel: Green Shirt, Blue Jeans, Wristwatch and Trainers

Bio:Born in Dukes LC to and alcoholic Irish father and a stay at home depressed mother, he had an unhappy childhood. He was friends with the McReary family until his Mother and Father divorced when he was 8. He went with his mother to Los Santos. When he first moved there he was brilliantly behaved, a straight A student. All that changed when he was 16 when he was charged with underage drinking and DUI. He developed a nose for trouble after that, regularly mugging people and stealing cars.

These are our two main characters but this is a SYOC story.

**RATED M FOR EXTREMELY BAD LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE.**

****Hope you enjoy, Echo2345 and Skyrims Saviour. R&R


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 1:THESE MEAN STREETS**

I rubbed my eyes as I woke. I listened for the noise that awoke me and it didn't take long for me to pinpoint it. It was coming from Franklin Clinton's annoying ass aunt and her even more annoying ass friend. Every morning at the break of dawn they would be 'spirit walking' down the street. I mean what the fuck, spirit walking. I got out of bed and put in my clothes. They where the same clothes I wore almost everyday but I really didn't give a shit. I left the house and turned right to get into my green and black Sabre GT. I opened the door to get in when an all to familiar voice shouted out to me.

"Yo, Dre, it's me" Shouted a young african-american man.

I looked up and recognised the face instantly

"Franklin Clinton. Nigga shit, what's up?" I chuckled as I held my hand out to him.

He took it as I said

"Shit man, I thought you was rich and living in Vinewood now"

"I am. I'm looking for Lamar, you seen him around?"

I was just about to say that I hadn't seen him for a few days when all of a sudden he came strutting around the corner.

"Hey LD!" I shouted. "Someones here to see you"

He looked up and smiled, he started to walk towards us but stopped when a sudden burst of gunfire, screeching tyres, screaming people and a purple sedan came speeding round the corner out of the blue. I watched as it pulled up beside Lamar. The back door swung open and a Balla pulled him inside. I ducked behind my wooden fence and drew my pistol, Franklin done the same beside me. I covered my head as a burst of uzi fire hit the fence, but the wood held up. I popped up and fired a bullet at the passenger seat. It whizzed through the window and penetrated the side of The Ballas head. The car sped up and out of the crescent.

"Shit" I said to Franklin as we ran to my Sabre.

I quickly started the car and sped off towards Grove Street. We caught up with the Purple Sedan pretty quickly. Franklin leaned out the window with an uzi and shot another balla.

We came up to the road leading to Grove Street. I pulled up too the left hand side of the car and rammed it. The driver lost control and spun onto the bridge. At the same time Franklin put a bullet in one of the tires and sent the car flipping over the guard rail into the LS river. We both got out and ran down to the wreckage. We eventually pulled Lamar from the wreckage. He wasn't moving.

"Nigga you killed him!" I shouted to Franklin.

At that same moment his eyes started to open.

"We need to get him to a hospital" Franklin said.

I helped Lamar up and we started making for the car. I was completely unaware of the Balla that had crawled out of the car behind me.

"Fuck the families" The balla croaked and squeezed the trigger of his pistol.

Blood splattered on my face as Lamar's body went limp. I fell under the dead weight of his body. Luckily I did as another bullet flew overhead. I heard a third gunshot which came from Franklins direction. I pulled myself from under his body and looked at the dead body of my friend. The bullet passed straight through his skull, he died instantly. I saw Franklin kneel beside him and start to cry. I heard the distant wail of sirens.

"Shit, Frank we have to go" I told him. I tried to pull him away but he shrugged me off and clutched to Lamar's corpse. The sirens drew close

"C'mon nigga please, we have to go now or we'll get pinned for all these corpses, including Lamars. You ain't gonna be going to that niggas funeral if his family think you fucking killed him"

After a few seconds he got up and ran with me to the Sabre. We never really spoke much on the way home, although we did pass two people robbing a gas station. I thought it would be best to avoid that as the area would no doubt be swarming with cops. It was about an hours drive to Franklins house. When we got there I at least expected him to invite me in, but he only muttered a thanks and left.

I took the scenic route home, driving past the freshly robbed union depository. I knew Franklin was involved in it, I mean he did become a millionaire at the exact same time it was robbed. He done it with them two crazy white dudes he hangs about with, Trevor and Micheal I think their names were. After the hour and a quarter drive back it was already afternoon and I was starving. I went inside and microwaved the leftovers from last nights dinner. I couldn't get what happened to Lamar my mind. Why did he have to go like that. I just wished he would have had the sense to get out of the gangster life while he could have. I just couldn't believe he was fucking gone

I went in for a shower and cleaned my self of every last part of Lamar that was stuck to me. He had been friends with me and Frank since we were kids, the poor bastard didn't deserve to die like that. I needed to get out of the ghetto, to stop living on dimebag sales and to make some real money. I mean Franklins living proof that it's possible, and if he could do it why couldn't I. I was done with the CGF, I needed too get out there and make a name for myself. I needed to get out these mean streets


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 2:CAUSING A SCENE**

"MARCUS!" Yelled the broad Irish accent that I have to call Mum.

"Urgh..." I half slur half groan through the door.

"Breakfast!" It yelled again.

"COMING, FOR FUCK SAKE!" I yell back getting annoyed and I wasn't even awake 5 minutes.

I sluggishly stood up and walked over to my wardrobe in which I managed to find a pair jeans and shirt. I crouch onto my knees to recover my trainers from under the bed. I pull them on my feet and tie the laces in a double-knot. I walk out of my room door and trip over something.

"FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!" I say nursing my jaw which had just bounced off of the wall.

I look to my feet to see what I tripped on and seen my brothers' fire engine.

"Carl, you bastard." I mutter, as I walk down the stairs.

I walk into the kitchen and see my breakfast on the counter.

"Coffee, Son?" I hear Dirk say behind me.

"Don't call me that, you're not my Father." I say, cheekily.

I take my plate and sit on the rather weary looking couch and hear ,to my disgust, one of my brother's shows come on the tv. I let out a sigh of disbelief at how children can sit and watch this bullshit, I mean if you were to sit and watch an hour of this you would lose brain cells. As I try and block out the mind-numbing theme music and pointless songs as I eat my breakfast. Eventually, my Mum brings my 6 month old sister in the room and she starts making noise in time with the music.

"Yes, Mum, that's the way forward numb their minds before they can fucking walk!" I shout sarcastically to my Mother.

"Don't use that language to me or in front of little Carl or Holly there!" My Mum scolds.

"Too late for Carl he knows some of that language and Holly can't fucking understand English!" I shout back at my Mother

"You shouldn't speak to your Mom that way, Mark." Says the all-knowing Dirk.

"Stay out of it and don't ever fucking call me Mark or I will break your fucking jaw!" I shout at Dirk.

I don't know why I hate Dirk the way I do I always try to think of it as something like a mix of him trying to be my dad or the fact he's banging my mum or maybe it was that lousy American accent yes I live in America , I can get citizenship but I've still got a lot Ireland in me most noticeably my accent, which always made me popular with the chicks from Dukes to Los Santos fucking sluts I tell you now.

"Don't speak like that to him!" My mum scolds me again.

I couldn't be bothered with arguing so I just flipped her off. I pulled out my iFruit phone and called my best friend Packie.

*BEEP*BEEP*

"What's up, Marcus?" Packie says from the other end of the line.

"Does there need to be a reason?" I ask

"Well, there usually is! Haha!" He replies.

"Yeah, well I'm coming to pick you up before my IQ drops 50 points." I say.

"Where?" He asks.

"Er... meet me at the Maze Bank Arena." I say.

"See you there then." He says and hangs up the line.

I walk out the door silently and walk to my stolen Invetero Coquette. I put the keys in the ignition and start up the car. I begin to drive to the Maze Bank Arena when I remember that since this car is stolen the cops will be looking for it. I change course for a Los Santos Customs. When I reach Los Santos Customs I notice that a cop was parked near the entrance, obviously looking for my car, I think to myself. I quickly reverse and decide that it was maybe best if I pick up Packie then switched plates and paint. After almost a half-hour of slightly edgier driving than normal I finally reach Packie.

"Where the fuck did you get this beauty?" He asks.

"It's stolen, now can we please go I'm not so comfortable being here there's too many cameras!" I say, getting a little over paranoid by the fact I could be busted here and now.

"Yeah, sure." He says, swinging open the passenger door.

"So, what are we doing?"

"LS Customs." I answer, scanning for patrol cars.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention it before the Union Depository got busted I did a little job for these two guys on the FIB. I didn't catch one of the guys name's but I swear that one them was called Frank or somthin'." He says

"You robbed the FIB building?" I ask out of disbelief.

"Oh, yeah, got a containment drive or somethin' whatever that actually is." He says, acting very smug.

"And how much did you get for this containment drive?" I ask.

"A couple of hundred thou." He says.

"SHIT!" I shout." What the fuck happened to it?"

"Strippers, booze and weed my friend." He says

"Fair enough. Did you hear some crazy dude bought that club?" I ask.

"Yeah, I seen him come in and out with the two guys I mentioned, he looks insane man plus he's a Canadian so there really is a first time for everything, eh?" He says, laughing at his own joke, I start laughing aswell.

"Here, we are." I say, as I pull into LS Customs.

"What can I do for you?" the mechanics ask.

"Paintjob, white, and different licence plates."

After five minutes of waiting I leave the autoshop leaving $300 behind .

"What now?" Packie asks.

"I don't know, wanna rob the gas station?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure!" Packie replies, full of joy at the idea.

"There's two balaclavas and two guns in the glove box and when holding the gun wear this glove so if you ditch the gun they won't get a print." I explain.

"You planned this ,didn't you." Packie says

"So? I'm prepared if it's a crime I'll plead guilty." I answer.

"Freedom and cash on hand is a blessing." He says, possibly quoting one of his old friends from LC.

"Station is right up there." I say, getting out of the car.

I put the handgun in my jeans and balaclava in my pocket. I lead Packie round the back of the station clear of most camera's and peering eyes. I put on the balaclava and remove the gun from my jeans.

"1,2,3!" I say as I prepare to run in the garage.

I kick open the door and point my gun the cashier.

"GIVE ME THE FUCKING MONEY FROM THAT DRAWER!" I shout.

I hear Packie threatening the customers.

"ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS AND YOU ALL MAKE THE SIX O'CLOCK NEWS!" He yells.

"HURRY THE FUCK UP!" I yell at cashier.

He throws the bag of the money to me I look around and shoot the camera and run for the car. I hear sirens in the distance and pick up the pace. I reach the car and drive to get Packie.

"GET IN!" I yell

When he sits down I speed down the road. After 5 minutes of doing 100 mph down the road I park in an alleyway and wait for the sirens to stop.

"How much?" I ask.

"$750." Packie says, having counted it quickly.

"$375 each, not bad, where do you want dropped off?" I ask.

"The beach'll do." He answers.

"The beach then." I say.

After I drop Packie at the beach, I return home and see my mother sitting on the sofa.

"Explain yourself! NOW!" She yells.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 3 : CAREFUL PLANNING****  
**

I wake the next day to a knock on my door. I slept in my clothes the night before so there was no need to get ready. I stand out of bed and turn the lock on my door. I swing it open to see Franklin on the other side.

"Yo, Dre, can I come in?" He asks

"Yeah, sure?" I reply and step to the side, ushering him in.

"So, what's up?" I ask to my nervous looking friend.

"I met with the rest of the leaders of the families, were ready to launch an attack on Grove Street" He says

"Shit man, we finally taking it back" I say pleased.

"Yeah, we gotta plan it out first though" He replies bluntly "Although I know a guy that can help us"

"Ok, good. So when do we have an Idea on when this is happening?"

"The planning, today at my house. Be there for eight sharp, the leaders of the Families will be there. The attack, hopefully the next few days"

"Ok, eight pm" I say making a mental note,

"I'm gonna go now, got some other houses to go too"

"Ok Franklin, stay safe"

"See ya Dre" He says as he leaves the house.

I slump into my couch and begin to play Righteous Slaughter 7. I think about how good the first few games where, and how the series slowly turned into a mainstream game that was played by more ten year old kids than adults. I then decide to put my copy of Mass Theft Auto : Vatican City in and play that. I run through the Church spraying priests and innocent Catholics. I move up each level with ease going from Chapel Goers, Altar Servants, Nuns, Priests, Bishops, Archbishops and all the way to the last level, the Pope. The Pope level was infamously hard with only a quarter of all the people who bought the game completing it. I quickly get into cover as the Popes rocket goes whistling over my head. I quickly put 5 bullets from my carbine into his head but it only takes off a fraction of his health bar. I duck behind cover again as he sprays at me with a minigun. A bullet scrapes my arm and takes away half my health bar.

"**WHAT THE** **FUCK!**" I scream at the TV as I throw a grenade at the Pope.

A confused expression wipes over my face as a cutscene plays. The Pope picks up the grenade and says

"What is this? Satan's Forbidden Fru-"

He is cut off mid sentence as the 'nade blows off his arms and half his face and torso. My character rushes over to him and looks down at him.

"Help me" Croaks the Pope. "Take my staff, it can save me, it is the key to immortality." The Pope says.

I pick up the staff.

"Good" He says. "Now stick it up my rectum, it is the only way to heal me"

The screen changes back to me and I am given two choices. A, Give the Pope anal, and save his life. Or B, take the staff and live forever.

I make my choice instantly and choose B.

You are then given the freedom to kill the Pope in anyway you want. I shoot him in the head with my rocket launcher and then leave the building.

I drive away trying to blend in with the drivers when all of a sudden I try to overtake the slow car in front of me and clip a police car. The stars in the top right hand corner quickly go all the way up to six. I know what this means and scream

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" At the top of my lungs as a nuke hit my car.

A red wasted flashes over the screen

"Fuck this game" I shout and storm away unhappy.

I leave the house and walk over to my Sabre. I swing the door open, still angry at the game. I go for a drive to ammu-nation, knowing that I would need a good gun for taking back Grove Street. I walk up to the counter and the owner goes on about how he would love to be a gangbanger. I ignore him and look through the guns. I see an SMG and pick it up. The gun looks in prime condition and I look down the sights.

"How much?" I ask

"For you, two grand" The man with a southern accent replies

"I'll take it" I say while handing over the money.

The man cracks a small grin for making an overpriced sale. I know that it was a bit much, but I could always steal the money back if I needed it. I always carry as much money as possible on me, that way I can always be sure if something comes up I can get it.

I walk into my saber and put the gun in the passenger seat. I begin the short drive home which only takes ten minutes. I lift the gun and walk into my house. I lay the gun on my cluttered coffee table and fall onto the couch. I feel my eyes start to get heavy so I shut them to get some sleep.

I wake at 5 pm and quickly make a sandwich to calm my growling stomach. The sandwich makes most of the hunger go away so I grab a beer and watch the TV. I remember about the Los Santos Benders game is on so I turn the channel over and see the last 15 minutes. I am a big soccer fan and it is my favourite sport, which was unorthodox when I was growing up as most of my friends liked basketball or football. The game finishes one-nil to the Benders so I turn it off happy that my team picked up the three points.

Imess about till six when I decide to head up to Franklins for the meeting. I put on a green business shirt and a green cap, just to show my colours. I put my leather jacket on over the shirt and slip on my shoes. I grab my keys from the table and leave the house, locking the door behind me. You can't trust your house to be left alone in this area at night, another reason why I want to get out of the ghetto.

I get into my car and turn the keys in the ignition. I put the SMG into the back seat, to avoid any unnecessary problems. I make it to Franklins house at five past eight and see that there is already a few cars outside. I recognise Franklins Buffalo and a few of the CGF members cars, although there is a few there that I don't recognise. There is a black off road truck. A white sedan with dollar sign wheels and an Invetero Coquette. I park my car in the driveway and walk up to the door and open it. The room turns and looks at me. They were all sitting on chairs that had been taken from around the house.

"Dre. Just in time" Franklin says as I walk over and take a seat.

I look around and see the two people that Franklin rolls with, Trevor and Michael I think they are called. Beside them I see two other white people that I don't recognise. There are two other gangsters there, reps from the other two factions of the Families. Standing at the board is Franklin and a hunched over man with a walking stick and glasses.

"So gentlemen" The man with the walking stick says while adjusting his glasses "This is what I propose"

**A/N. THESE A/N WILL NOT BE REGULAR IN THIS STORY. I JUST WANT TO SAY I MEAN NO DISRESPECT TO ANY CATHOLICS READING THIS CHAPTER AS I RESPECT ALL FAITHS AND RELIGIONS**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 4 : CASH** **ON HAND**

I swing open my car door and call Packie.

*BEEP*BEEP* *BEEP*BEEP* *BEEP*BEEP*

"Urgh, wha' do you want?" Packie slurred.

"Packie, wake the fuck up, I've been hit with a windfall. Ten thousand bucks, thought you should know don't go to my mothers anymore go to the house on Hampstead." I say into the reciever.

"Yeah..." He says before falls back asleep.

I hang up and go onto the web browser. I access the Liberty City Exchange and sell my shares.

*BEEDOO*

I received an email informing me that the money had been successfully wired to my account. I lie down across the car and fall asleep.

When I wake up it's 11 o'clock and the sun is shining. I drive to an ATM and insert my credit card. I enter in my PIN number and extract $10,000. I turn from the ATM and walk back to my car. I set my GPS for Hampstead Drive and set off. I decided to take the long way and go for a drive through the city. I drove past the Maze Bank Tower, FiB HQ and the IAA building who were supposedly going to cause World War 3, and finally before I decided to go home I drove past the "Unrobbable" Union Depository. When I firrst heard about it I thought it would've been something like Die Hard 3 but apparently it was just in and out and a few dead mercenaries. I drove up to Vinewood and pulled in at the property on Hampstead. The realtor was showing people around the house when I arrived.

"Sorry, folks, properties been bought." I announce, walking through the doors.

"I'm sorry but there is paperwork to be filled before I can even consider someone for the house!" The Realtor shouts at me.

" Average price?" I ask.

"$3.5k." He says.

"Well, there's seven for you and an extra $500 for you. Now, keys!" I order the man.

"Err... Yes, of course." He stammers, taking the keys from his pocket.

"Good man. Now, everyone get the fuck off my property!" I yell.

I walk over to my living room and fall back on the couch when my phone starts to ring.

"Yes, Packie, my boy?" I answer the phone.

"Remember those boys I robbed the FiB-"

"What the fuck, man? You don't say shit like that on an insecure line, but you were saying?" I yell at him.

"Well, the two of them and some other crazy fucking Canadian wants to take back Grove Street." He says.

"What the fuck does that have to do with us? The CGF and the Ballas aren't exactly our type of crime. We rob Gas stations and Liquor Stores, they kill people and traffic drugs!" I say.

"There's money in it." He says.

"How the fuck do you expect to profit from taking over a cul de sac?" I ask.

"Like you said, drugs and local prostitution." He says in to the reciever.

"Any cash up front?" I ask, actually considering going ahead with this.

"100k." He says calmly.

"Fuck. Is that definite?" I ask.

"Yes." He replies in the same calm manner.

"When and where?" I ask.

"8pm tonight at this guy called Franklin's house, just round the corner from your place, look for a white Bravado Buffalo . He's that guy I was telling you about." He answers.

"I'll be there." I say, hanging up the phone

I sit back on my couch thinking about how much better it is having my own house and not listening to mind-numbing child shows on the T.V. I didn't really question the fact that there was 100k in taking over a cul de sac but where there is money I am not one to argue. I looked at my watch and the time is three o'clock and I hadn't slept well in my car so I found the bedroom, kicked off my shoes and slumped onto the feather bed.

I woke up in about three and a half hours sleep. I sat on the bedside and checked the time. There was still a good hour and a half before we were going to even think about getting that money. I decided to site in my yard seeing as the sun hadn't died yet. I took a cold beer from the newly discovered, surprisingly full mini-fridge next to my bed. I sit in a lounge chair by my pool wondering who will be there and if I should actually go, I mean it's a cul de sac it's hardly the Gaza strip, if I walked into an Ammu-nation bought a carbine rifle and as much rounds as I could carry and some body armour I could probably take it over but if I did that then there would be no 100k in it straight away. In any case though, I still wondered about who would be there and how we would attack it but like I said, It's hardly the Gaza strip so it wouldn't require immense planning, in fact I could probably be there via a phone call and play Righteous Slaughter. No, I was going I told myself.

I lay there in that lounge chair until quarter to eight when I figured if I was going to go I'd best leave now. I walked to my door after throwing my third beer can somewhere into a neighbour's yard. I swing open the door and walk over to my Invetero Coquette, still parked outside the driveway I wonder how it hadn't been stolen but then remembered that this was Vinewood not Vespucci. I get into my car , a little more drunk than I should be to drive safely, the sun had now set so to try to avoid getting points on my licence by driving dangerously or getting a DUI I switch on my headlights. I drive along the road looking for a white Bravado Buffalo. I see one going up a hill but I had almost passed it by so I had to make a sharp turn. I drive my car up the hill and park behind an Obey Tailgater. I slightly stumble out of my car after turning off the engine. I see I an off-road pick up truck and a few other cars I'd never even seen on the streets before. I see two men walk into the house with Packie.

"Packie!" I shout, running over to him.

"Ah, good, Marcus you're just in time." He says.

The two other men turn around. I introduce myself.

"I'm Marcus." I say, offering them to shake my hand.

"Trevor." The unkempt one says.

"Michael. Good to meet you." The rather business-like one says.

"So, tell me, why do we need to plan this, why not just walk into Ammu-Nation buy some big motherfucking guns and the place up. Get a garbage truck to box them in, it is cul de sac not Afghanistan." I say.

"I think I'm gonna like you." Trevor says, I wasn't sure if that was a compliment but I took it as one.

We walk into the house where , who I assumed was Franklin, stood at a board with a balding, hunched over man with glasses.

"So gentleman," The man at the board says," This is what I propose."

**A/N SEEING AS THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL MOST LIKELY INVOLVE MARCUS AND DRE IN THE SAME PLACE IT WILL PROBABLY BE WRITTEN BY ECHO2345. thanks for reading**


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